


The Wedding Morning

by day_dream_girl



Category: West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Future Fic, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 13:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/day_dream_girl/pseuds/day_dream_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...it’s slightly surreal to be standing in my childhood bedroom in a wedding dress."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of Aaron Sorkin, NBC. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

It’s a little strange being in my old room today. Pictures, toys and memories of a life I left behind a long time ago surround me.

To be honest it’s slightly surreal to be standing in my childhood bedroom in a wedding dress.

It is a fabulous dress though; it swishes when I walk. I like that, it was one of the reasons I’d chosen this one. I take a few deep breaths with my hand on my abdomen as if that would somehow stop the churning emotions turning my insides into a cement mixer.

My mother had smiled, a tear in her eye as she kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my shoulders before leaving with the two bridesmaids.

They should be there by now.

This is huge, enormous.

Marriage is a big deal. It’s a grown up thing to do.

There was a time when I didn’t think I’d ever get here, especially not with him, but by some miraculous event I am. In little over an hour I will be a married woman.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror and for a second I don’t recognise myself. Is that really me? Is it really true? Is that really my blonde hair falling in loose curls around my shoulders, veil shimmering down my back?

A knock sounds on my old bedroom door and I smile when my father comes in. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he sees me, a smile of sheer pride on his face.

I turn to face him my heart still racing as I hold out my hands to him.

“Hey Dad.”

“Wow! Look at you. You’ll knock him for six sweetheart.” He pulls me towards him and hugs me.

“Dad, watch the dress.”

“Oh, sorry.” He grins and I sit carefully down on the bed.

“When will the car be here?”

“In about twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” I brush down the front of the dress, just to keep my hands busy and it doesn’t take long before he captures them in his own and frowns at me.

“You alright?”

I nod, careful not to move anything out of place. “I guess I’m just a little nervous. It’s the first time I’ve been married after all.”

“And it better be the last.” He elbows me gently in the ribs. “Do you know how much this wedding is costing me?!”

“Hey, you’ve nobody to blame but yourself. I was quite happy to go down to the courthouse and sign the papers. You’re the one who said we should have a wedding.”

“Like I’m going to let my daughter’s wedding be treated like a car loan application!” I roll my eyes and the right side of his mouth curls up. “Besides, I happen to think I look good in a tux.”

“You think you look good in anything.” I point out.

“Is it my fault I’m a prime example of the male of the species? I don’t ask women to throw themselves at me. They just don’t seem to be able to help themselves. Who can blame them?”

I can feel myself cringe. “Eww, Dad, please!” What girl wants to think of her father like…well, like that?!

He’s got an amused glint in his eyes before his voice quietens a little.

“You know, I could never have asked for a better daughter.”

“Oh Dad,” I sniffle trying to keep tears in check. This isn’t really helping the inner cement mixer. “Don’t make me cry, my mascara will run.”

“You get all that emotional stuff from your mother’s side of the family,” he remarks drolly.

“Are you trying to say you’re an emotionless shell of a man?” I raise an eyebrow, the hint of a smile quirking at the corner of my lips.

“I’ll have you know I am a _very_ passionate man. Just ask your mother.”

“Dad!”

I can literally feel the revulsion rising from my toes up through my body. As if I wasn’t feeling ill enough!

He lets out a burst of laughter at my indignation and kisses my temple before looking me over from head to toe.

“You look just like your mother.”

“Funny, she said I look like you.”

“Nah, your brother had the fortune of inheriting my rugged good looks.”

He puffs out his chest, holding his salt ‘n pepper head up high, and I can’t help but chuckle.

He squeezes my hand and looks down at our intertwined fingers. “You know, I can still remember how your mother looked on the day we got married. She was…stunning.” He sighs reminiscing to himself and for a second I wish I could have seen them when they were young and in love, and with their whole life in front of them. “She was on her father’s arm and her golden hair was swept up elegantly on the top of her head and her smile…her smile was just so amazingly beautiful it took my breath away. I thought until the day I die I’d never see such a beautiful bride. You’ve proven me wrong.”

“Dad!” I thump him lightly on the arm and dab very carefully at my eyes. “Don’t do that!”

He grins down at me. “Sorry.”

“An apology rings a little less true when you’re beaming like a Cheshire Cat throughout it.”

“Okay, okay I’m sorry. Really, I am very sorry for nearly making you ruin your makeup.”

“You’re still grinning.”

“Hey, I can’t help it! I’m married to a beautiful woman, I have a wonderful life and today my eldest daughter is getting married. I’m sorry if I’m a little too cheerful for you.”

I can’t help but smile along with him. He’s always been able to do that. Make me smile and laugh. Even with all the fighting through the years or the times I thought the world was going to end because some boy I’ve forgotten about didn’t call. He’s always been there to catch me before I crashed to the ground with an almighty thud.

I pat his arm before standing up and pacing the length of the room. He just sits back a little, uncaring of the creases he could be getting in his suit apparently, and watches me.

Eventually I stop, when a picture of my sister and brother and I playing in the snow catches my eye. I smile sadly and Dad’s immediately at my side, picking up the framed photograph.

“That was a good holiday.”

“Yeah, it was.” I agree. “You know when Mom and everyone finally left me a minute for myself I got to thinking.”

“Oh?” He puts the picture back carefully and looks at me curiously.

“Yeah, I was just standing here…and, well I guess being in this room brings back a lot of old memories. I can still remember bouncing on the bed thinking that if I could jump high enough, I could go through the skylight and touch the clouds, or playing happy families with my dolls in their dream house, or just…different things, you know? Like wanting to be an astronaut or a ballet dancer and making you and mom get me in dance class.”

“Yeah, I remember. You left after two classes.”

“It really wasn’t for me. But I…I just got to thinking about that, and I can still get that childish feeling of excitement when I think about all the things I wanted to do, I wanted to be and suddenly I felt this…this pang right in my chest because I,” I can feel my eyes tearing up and I know it’s stupid, it’s so silly and Dad will probably think I’m being ridiculous, especially crying over something like this…so I just take a breath and tell him, “I suddenly realised, I’m not a child anymore. And I know, I know I haven’t been for a _long_ time, but it just hit me, all those dreams, those aspirations and that certainty I had; that I could do all that stuff…that I could fly if I wanted it enough or touch the moon in the sky…it’s all gone. That little girl isn’t here anymore and now I’m, I’m getting married Dad. I won’t be a Ms or Miss anymore. I’ll be a Mrs, I won’t even have the same last name anymore.”

“Oh honey, I know.” He squeezes my shoulders and his eyes are just a little too bright. He’s such a softie. “But like I said before, you can always keep your last name. There’s absolutely _nothing_ wrong with it.”

“Dad, don’t start this again.” I sigh.

“Ok, ok. But listen to me; you’ll always be my little girl. Always. It doesn’t matter if you’re a bald eighty-five year old with a wrinkled face and a thousand grandkids. You’re my little girl and you always will be. And this will always be your home, you may live in another house with another man and have a family of your own…but this will be your home until…I don’t know, the end of time. Don’t forget that.”

He hugs me to him and I can feel a calm come over me.

“Watch the hair.” I mumble into his suit.

He chuckles and I can hear and feel it reverberate through his chest.

“Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this but not long before I married your mom we went to visit your grandparents and one night she got all upset. It was like Niagara Falls that night, and before you say anything it was nothing that I did; she was just upset all by herself.” I grin into his shirt as he continues. “Eventually after much cajoling, I managed to get out of her what was wrong.”

“What was wrong?” I ask pushing back curious.

“Well, while we were there she was staying in her old room, just like you, and all these old memories came back to her. Dreams she’d had when she was younger, Christmases with her sisters and brothers sitting up excitedly waiting for Santa, things that could never happen again. She knew she was moving on and we were going to have many Christmases together with our own family but being back in her old room… I guess it just brought it all back to her. I think it gave her the chance to revisit her childhood and while she’ll never forget any of those times, it gave her the chance to really let go and look forward to our life together.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, plus there was something about having to…well, live with…me.”

He grins and I smile looking at us both in the mirror. “Thanks Dad.”

“No problem kiddo, but just so you know, you really do get all that emotional stuff from her side of the family. I never cried in my room before I got married.”

“Dad, you cried when Bambi’s mother was shot.”

“I did not! Something flew into my eye.”

“Of course it did.”

We remain in silence for a few minutes, my Dad and I.

“I’m scared Dad.”

“You’ll be fine, but hey, if you wanna call the wedding off it’ll only take me a few minutes-”

“Not so fast.” I pull him back towards me a smile on my face. “I’m not calling anything off.” My smile fades just a bit as I continue. “I know he’s not the man you and Mom would have picked for me Dad, but I love him. I do. Just being with him or hearing his voice makes me happy. And I know you’ve had you’re spats with him and I sure as hell know that we have, but Dad…he loves me. He really does and I know he’d do anything for me.”

“Would he change political parties?”

“Dad!”

He shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

“The things is Dad, I’m not saying that I’m not whole without him or I can’t be happy without him because I can. I just don’t want to be. I want to be his wife. I want to be his friend, the person who supports him in his career just as he supports me in mine. I want us to have children and a dog running around at our feet. But most of all I want us to be a family. All of us, and that includes you and Mom.”

He tilts his head and looks at me, his eyes narrowed, almost a pained look on his face.

“You know all your mother and I have ever wanted was for you to be happy right? I just…I wasn’t sure if he was good enough for my little girl.”

“Who ever was?”

“Nobody,” he admits grudgingly, “but I, I guess if he makes you happy…”

“He does.” I tell him firmly.

“Then…he’s good enough for me.”

“Thank you.” I lean over and kiss him on the cheek.

“I hope you didn’t leave any lipstick marks on me young lady. The last thing I need is your mother thinking those bridesmaids couldn’t resist me any longer.”

We laugh quietly until we hear the horn of a car outside. His eyes follow mine out towards the window and he moves to look out the window before holding his left palm out towards me.

“That’s the car.”

I take his proffered hand and taking one final look around the room, he whispers to me.

“Ready?”

I nod as we leave and head towards the front door.

“Well then, I guess it’s time to get you married off Chrissie Moss-Lyman. Even if it is to a Republican.”

I roll my eyes at him.

I love my Dad, but he is such a Democrat!

~Finis~

© 2004 Copyright held by the author.


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